Warm Frost & Cold Snow
by FellStroke
Summary: Their story was written amongst the stars; woven together by fate itself. But have you ever wondered of the "why" underneath the "how"; of how their love and everything in between came to pass? Read and find out as Jack and Elsa become more than what they were meant to be. "Twas a tale of family and how their love lasted a thousand lifetimes." [Jack X Elsa]
1. Chapter 1: FATES WE WEAVE

**Author's notes: The moment frozen came out I just knew this ship would come about. The fact it took me so long to actually write a Jelsa story eludes me. But anywho, this is me paying tribute to the adorability that is Jelsa. Read and enjoy the fic and rest assured that this story will not die. Although it may take some time to finish since I'm planning it to be an epic saga.**

He couldn't remember when it all began or how long it has been since he arose from that lake, 100 years he guesses yet it felt longer still. There was no doubt in his mind that his was on old soul; the weariness that he felt clawing at him each day deemed it so. He spoke not of himself as a spirit, however, but rather of the very essence of the "Jack Frost". He was no fool; he knew that he was not the first one to be called by this title and he won't be the last. Winter, after all, has been around for a very long time.

Why has he become Jack Frost though?

What could the moon possibly be thinking choosing him to be the spirit of winter? From what he was able to gather from his years of service was that there were many others more capable of handling such a position. Off the top of his head, one such individual was that super white Swedish tomte that hung around Halland; now there was someone who loved snow!

It circled his mind often, this question. This was not the first time he'd asked: Why him? He was so unspectacular, so ordinary at least by mythological standards. In fact, if he were not able to fly and not have white hair, he was pretty sure that he would blend right into the crowd.

Not that it mattered anyway. Nobody could spot him even if they tried. And he wasn't even trying to hide or anything it was just that **no one** could see him; invisible to anyone but to those who believed. This was a little facet to being a spirit that Jack has come to terms with. Okay, not really but still. Just because he was a spirit and that no one could see him, it didn't mean he enjoyed the solitude.

One other thing was that he remembered nothing of his past; nothing past his name. Was this what he truly looked like? Did he ever have a family? And if there were, did anyone miss him when he had gone? Surely there was an explanation as to why he looked the way he did. Or was he made this way from the start?

Answers he would never know and be forever locked in his furtive past. What remained now was the present, his present. And if Jack was sure of one thing it was that if he were to be stuck with this dead-end job for all of his foreseeable eternity then, by God, he'd have fun doing it!

* * *

The night was cool and calm over the kingdom of Arendelle, its citizens asleep and blissfully unaware of the legend that was about to take scene in its humble vista. Up in the sky a lone, hooded figure hovers above the slumbering city and takes a moment to just gaze upon its beauty.

"Ok enough gazing. What else is on my to-do list?" the man spoke to no one in particular, flipping nonexistent pages in the imaginary checkbook he held in his hand "Ah, ok, here we are. 'Item 3097: Icy Shores.' Huh, sounds simple enough."

For the spirit, yes, it was fairly simple to freeze the sea let alone its shores. He's done it oh so many times when the world entered one of his winters that he could probably do it without thought, but taking into account that it was in the middle of summer… Well, Jack does so love a good challenge anyway.

"Okay - ok here we go. "He shook his hands by the wrists and bounced on the balls of his feet in anticipation while floating in mid-air, pretending that it was all a big event when it was anything but. With one last jig he took in a deep breath and freefell a thousand feet out of the sky.

This is what he lived for; what he yearned for; to feel alive in ways his immortality could never hope to offer. With the wind roaring in his ears the ground drew ever closer with every passing second yet Jack still refused his eyes to open. He shouted in elation along with the uproar that engulfed him all the way down, seemingly unafraid of his impending demise. At the last second when he was about to hit the water he upturned so that he would enter the bay feet first. With a loud splash the water broke, unable to withstand the intruding force. It rippled and it swayed until finally the shores returned to its seamless state as if nothing happened. The fjord was calm once more.

Stillness reigned for the moment and all was quiet as night has always been; nothing to be heard but the gentle northern breeze. Underneath the surface, however, the sea grew colder and colder and colder still until the water started to freeze. A thin film of crystalline, baby-blue ice started webbing its way across the shore's surface like vines reaching towards the sun. Moments later all the waters surrounding Arendelle was incased in ice from top to bottom.

He burst forth from his icy creation, spitting out the water in his mouth. "Oh-ho yeah! Now that – pfft – that was fun." he said as he lifts himself onto the now frozen body of water. Breathing in the cold night air, unperturbed by his soaking wet garments, he reveled in his most recent feat of daring … but it was not to last.

"Well I'd say we could definitely scratch that one of the list." He tried to jest but the sad echo of his own voice across the frozen sea only served to dampen his merry making.

"What am I doing?"Jack sighs, his jolly, free-spirited nature fading. Here he was the embodiment of winter and he was squandering his power into useless acts such as midnight sky diving? It was sad that he had nothing better to do. You can't really blame him though. If you had been around for as long as he has, you'd look for ways to keep things spicy too. Everybody gets bored; even him.

But it was not just the boredom; another thing was also the loneliness. The isolation got to him too, more times than he'd like to admit. Being invisible to anyone who isn't a spirit, well, one could only imagine what that could do to a man. In fact, if left unsupervised -' you know what you need Jack?'…He'd start talking to himself. 'You need someone to talk to.'

"I'm talking to you aren't I?" he reasoned (to himself).

'Yeah, but it's not exactly healthy. If you keep this up you might just go insane! Mark my words. You **will **lose your mind.' he gestured, pointing at his temple for emphasis.

"Oh, well thanks for the tip there buddy but I think you're a little too late for that since I'm already talking-" and with that, yet another forlorn sigh escapes his lips"…to myself. ". He imagined that talking to himself, it looked somewhat like switching from two viewpoints depending on which persona was talking. It was stupid, it was insane, but ironically it kept him sane at the same time.

* * *

Shouts of utmost urgency rang out within the palace; shouts filled with fear and worry filled its grand halls.

A queen was dying and a princess was being born.

"Bring me cloth! Fetch me some water! And for the love of God, get a doctor in here now!"The king screamed, his usual calm demeanor breaking under the situation. And yet even with the volume in which he spoke his commands, his servants stood still rooted to the spot, unable to believe what was happening right before their very eyes.

"AAaaahhh!" she screamed yet again, pain lancing out in arcs through every nerve in her body.

Looking down at his beloved where an expression of pain seemed to be permanently plastered onto her beautiful face, he takes his dress robes off and throws caution to the wind. Proprieties be damned, his wife was giving birth! He climbs onto the bed and gets behind her to be used as a pillow but more so as a comforting presence in her time of need.

He cradles her in his arms and then looks again towards his servants when he realizes they were still not moving. "What are you all doing?! Did you not hear what I just said?! Get me a doctor in here this instant! Do as I say now, or so help me God, there would be dire consequences for each and everyone of you!" As if woken from a dream, the servants scramble to carry out their orders; each of them doing their part to help their liege lord and save their queen. With the servants finally springing into action, the king lets out an exasperated huff.

'How did this happen?' He thought. What could possibly be wrong? By all rights and appearances the queen was very healthy and quite strong. The birthing should have gone on without complication!

Then why hasn't it?

Voices were muffled as if the words were spoken through a wall, but even in her pain-filled haze the queen could tell that her husband was trying the best he can to keep things together. He was always so strong when it came to everything else but when it came to her he'd always be so gentle, so caring and in this case: so worried. She chuckles at the thought that someone as stoic as him could get so flustered over someone such as her. Good, he deserved it anyway; this was his fault after all. But as bitter as she tried to sound, the last thing she wanted was for her husband to worry; as king he had enough of that already. This was why she tried so hard to show that her discomfort was lesser than it was, but with the pain that coursed through her body, her efforts proved tedious at best.

His wife shifts ever so slightly from in front of him and the minuscule movement immediately grabs his attention. He looks to her and notices the sweat that brim her brow and the paleness of her skin. He's never felt more helpless in his life. His thoughts spiraled into despair as his wife continued to battle with herself. He was never trained for this! As a soldier he knew next to nothing as to the next course of action. He was a soldier, how in the world was he supposed to know how to bring a child into the world?

"Argh!" toes curling into the sheets, she was hit with yet another contraction and was too much in pain to stifle the groan that escaped her lips. It didn't stop her from trying though and the cry ended up sounding like a strangled cat. The soft mewls of pain snaps him out of his thoughts and immediately pulls him back into the present. He may be a soldier, he realizes, but he was also her husband and right now that was what his wife needed.

He grabbed at the sleeve of his free hand and used it to dab at the creased forehead of his brave queen. "A little while longer, love, help should be here soon. Just stay with me is that clear?" Though it was supposed to be an order, it sounded more like he was begging.

'Begging now? That was simply unacceptable! A king was never supposed to beg.' As if to answer his soft plea, the queen clutches onto his hand firm and unyielding despite being exhausted and for a brief moment her eyes flutter open to stare hard at the worry-worn face of her husband. "I won't give up…"she tries to say but then shuts her eyes tight as pain briefly pulls at her weary muscles. Once it passes she looks up again. " …as long as you don't, H-Henry."

In the face of such unparalleled bravado, the king could not help but smile. 'Such fire' he thought and for a short while his worries disappear. It was moments like this that he would look at her, his wife; really look at her and be reminded of the thing that drew him to her all those years ago. It was what kept him grounded through all the storms he has ever faced as king and what he could truly depend on in times of uncertainty. Stubbornness. His wife's utmost inability to yield to any obstacle set before her; that was what he could depend on. He knew that if her life were to be taken this night, she'll make sure that death earned it first. And if she was not giving up, then neither could he.

"Never." He promised, short sweet and very much blunt. Eyebrows set in determination; he too looks at her, making sure that every ember of conviction shone within his gaze. He wanted to make sure she saw that he could be just as stubborn as she was. After all, any man who was ever able to match his wife was a man worthy of the throne. And he'd be damned if that man was anyone but him.

'Ever the soldier' she thought 'Him and his one-liners.' Reassured that her husband won't keel over a soon as she closes her eyes, she favors him one last toothy grin that simply said "You worry too much." He actually chuckled at that. She shuts her eyes close as she goes back to concentrating on the task at hand.

Likewise, he too closes his eyes but for an entirely different reason. 'Please…don't take her away from me.' he prayed.

And so their wait began.

* * *

"What am I doing?" The little quandary was directed at none other than the only thing that remained awake at this godless hour and the words never sounded more hollow the hundredth time he's asked it ,and as his voice traversed the vast, frozen expanse before him, even more so. The question was innocent enough; did it not deserve an answer? Jack stared long at his creator with beseeching eyes hoping that just this once it would talk to him. And as it always has, it remained ever silent.

'Of course it wouldn't say anything; it's been like that since forever. Why would now be any different?' he thought, chuckling sarcastically at himself. He figured that waiting for an answer that he knew was never coming would be a total waste of time and morale so he just shakes his head and closes his eyes as he prepares to leave, all the while reprimanding himself for ever hoping. Oblivious, Jack Frost was completely unaware that tonight was the night that he was about to be proven very, very much wrong.

Jack was just about to raise himself off of the frozen fjord when a fell voice echoed in his mind. "Jack." it spoke with the intensity of a tempest and the deep rumblings of thunder, oddly enough, however, it also sounded gentle like calm seas. Immediately Jack falters in his ascent.

"Who's there?" asked the frightened boy as his wide eyes scan the night sky for the invisible half of his conversation. He tried to ask again "Is – is anyone there?" but the resounding silence that followed his question only added to the overly ominous feel of the experience.

After a while of waiting in baited breath, his chest deflates in relief. He gulps down his built up spit as if to physically swallow his trepidation, and after a while longer, he begins to relax. "Oooh-kay…" he said, his shaky whisper coming out too small even for him. "Maybe I really am losing it. What's the matter Jack, old boy? Talkin' to yourself just don't cut it no more?"

Letting his guard down and finally relenting his white knuckled grip on his staff he began to wonder what all that was. It must have been his imagination, he thought. It was summer and yet he still hung around places that deserved no snow from him; where sun and heat should have had free reign. He should be resting right now. Building up strength for his next bout of frosty fun was what he should be doing. Yeah, it was probably just his imagination. Fatigue filled imagination, nothing more.

Satisfied with his meager diagnosis, he was going to take his prescription of rest, off to cooler climates for much needed r & r when the voice decided to call again surprisingly louder than before, if it were possible. "Jack!" His spoken name rebounded against the confines of his mind making it hard to pinpoint to exactly where the ominous voice was coming from, not unlike church bells would across the mountains. "They need you!"

Jack was pretty sure he was not imagining things now; the overwhelming presence he felt gave testament to that. It was hard to explain the feeling that he felt. It was like the moon decided to shine whole lot brighter and its hugeness threatened to drown him. It made it harder for him to breathe even though he needed no air to live.

Jack goes back to being battle ready, unsure, however, as to whom exactly he was getting battle ready for. Thinking better of the situation, he decides to parley with the disembodied voice instead; it was probably better not to fight a foe you can't see. All the same, he was not foolish enough to lower his guard this time. "Better safe than sorry" he always said. 'Oh, since when?' argued the Make-Believe-Jack but Jack ignores him; there were far more important thoughts occupying his mind right now, thoughts like: 'Could I fly away fast enough if things got ugly?'.

"Okay, look, whoever you are, I'm all for pranks as much as the next spirit, but this is really getting old really fast! If you're trying to scare me then I have to say: you're really doing a good job, almost soiled myself actually." he chuckled, more nervous than amused. "But now it has to stop, 'cuz I'm warning ya; I've got a stick – kuhh… I mean – I'm armed! It's approach-at-your-own-risk here, got that?! " Words tumbled out of his mouth, the trepidation he swallowed from before coming back out as proverbial vomit of inane clumps of words.

Despite all his posturing the voice seemed unfazed. "They need you, Jack." It repeated its earlier statement, paying little heed to his empty threats as if it knew that he was all bark and no bite.

With fear running rampant through his veins, it was no wonder why it took him some time to actually realize what the voice had said."They" needed his help? Who on earth was this "they" exactly? "W-What are you talking about? Who's 'they'? Who needs my help?" he asked carefully for fear of startling his invisible friend and getting yelled at again.

Despite asking nicely, he half expected to be yelled at again anyway so he prepared himself for the mental bombardment of earlier. But as when before the voice spoke like booming thunder, now it seemed as if it were fading winds when storm has passed. "Time grows short. Be swift, Jack Frost. Save them. Save her." was its last words to him. And like lifting off a heavy blanket, the presence that seemed to weigh down on the very atmosphere itself was gone, leaving Jack breathless.

Jack takes his time to breathe in lungful after lungful of not-so-needed air as he tries to come to grips of what just happened. "What just happened?" he asked, clearly still in a state of shock. He'd love to say that talking to ominous voices was a regular occurrence for him but alas it was not, not unless you counted imaginary Jack of course. "Ok let's…just step back and – and think, yeah. OK first off: Why am I breathing so hard? Spirits don't need air." He said as if it were the most obvious thing. Right after he spoke that sentence, his breathing started to even out; taking in long deep breaths instead of fast erratic ones. Unnecessary, he knew, but it worked to calm him so he didn't really care.

"Second: Where'd the voice go?" he didn't notice it before but somehow, now that the voice had gone, the air felt lighter. "Uh… H-hello? Mr. Echo, voice, sir?" he guessed, not really sure what name it preferred. "You still with me here? Just so you know, you still hadn't told me who 'they' are that needed my help. Hello?" The absence of the voice left what felt to be a void floating in the air; this both relieved and unsettled him. Relieved, because, simply put, the entire ordeal just creeped him out. Unsettled, because now he was stuck with the thought that out there were people who needed his help and he didn't know where first to look.

"Well that was impolite. Scare a guy half to death then ditch him afterwards? Not exactly the friendly chat I'd hope for. Didn't even say goodbye." he tried to make light of what just happened but still the feeling of urgency lingered in him. 'What now? You'd think it would've given me an address or something at least.'

* * *

The doctor arrived a few minutes ago but it seemed even with his arrival things didn't look any less bleak. "What's happening? Why does she struggle so?" He asked the portly yet professional looking man.

"I fear that I cannot give an accurate diagnosis to your wife's condition, good king, but if I had to guess, it seems as though that child refuses to be born. Something else is at work here; something I have no knowledge of. Forgive me your highness, but my skills are not enough." were his words and final say in the matter. He tried everything he could, but it was not enough.

This was the fruit their wait had yielded? Nothing? His eyes grow wide and unfocused in disbelief. Right then and there the fears he refused to acknowledge became all too real. "Refuses to be born? H-How is that even possible?" A child couldn't just decide that it wanted a different birth date could it?

"It is what it is, my liege, but all the same there is nothing else we can do." Nothing. 'No, there was nothing left **he** could do.' His thoughts corrected the doctor. 'I on the other hand will not give up that easily. There is always hope. I just have to look hard enough.' second time that night, his eyes closed.

Henry "fox cunning" Callahan, Arendelle's brightest strategists and king, cleared his mind of all things irrelevant. His objective was to get his wife out of this alive and if he were to do that then he needed to think clearly. 'Strategically, think of this strategically. What are my options?' he steps back from the chaos that was around him and starts to see things that his emotions managed to hide.

His eyes open a moment to assess the situation and by chance they land upon a bookshelf. There tucked between the old books that he never bothered to open lay the answer: "The Tome of Lore". His eyes focus more on the book's spine as the bold words glare at him.

Would he dare? Dare to put the life of the one he held most dear in the hands of old legends? Being the logical man that he was, it took a lot out of him to come to a decision. He never did pay too much attention to the old tales his ancestors told him in his youth; tales that spoke of dragons and giants, magic and miracles. Utter rubbish he always thought them to be. But now logic has failed him and a miracle was the best thing that he could hope for. He was not going to stand there, however, waiting for one; if he was not going to be given a miracle then he would look for one himself.

His back straightens as the king in him emerges again something fierce. He turns to his faithful butler "Ready the longboat, Mr. Gibbs; we have a lot of water to cover."

**Author's notes: Well that's the first chapter. Upon the reception of the audience I lay the the future of this story. Know that your reviews as well as flames will be very much appreciated. But do try to be gentle; I'd love to here your ****criticisms but if it's mindless bashing then please make it funny at least. - FellStroke**


	2. Chapter 2: QUARRY WALLS

**Author's notes: It amazes me how just one review could lift my spirits. To tell you guys the truth, I never really expected for anyone to even give this thing a passing glance, really. I considered this little pet project of mine more of an outlet for my Jelsa cravings. Regardless, that one review actually made me smile. No wonder authors crave them so. Thanks by the way ^^.**

**Anyway enough of my ramblings! On with the show!**

* * *

"_Bunny, can I ask you a question?" – Jack_

"_No." – Bunnymund_

"_Why do you even paint those things, man? Their still just going to be hardboiled eggs no matter how they look like." – Jack_

"_It ain't never about thet, mate. Whoht mettahs is if it moikes them enkle boittahs heppy. It's stupid, I know. But sometoimes you do it enywoiy becuz' ya realoise thet their loives is whoht mettahs mowst." – Bunnymund_

"_Ah, so you admit that what you do is in fact stupid?" – Jack_

"_Thet's whoht ya got frum ehvryrthing I jist said?! Ya know whoht? Rack off yew bloody show pony! " – Bunnymund_

* * *

There were no need for boats, they found out, for all of Arendelle's waters were ice. And it baffled them to no end. The last thing Gibbs expected to hear when he had sent word out to the docs master was for the fjord to be frozen over and that there was no way to accomplish the king's orders. Quickly, the humble butler instead had the servants ready the sled and hoped against hope that the ice would not be able to bear the weight of two Clydesdale horses plus a sleigh.

Exiting their castle with queen in tow, the king had little time to marvel at the bizarre phenomenon that had occurred in their kingdom. He was baffled as much as the others were, of that there was no doubt, but some things take precedence. "Gibbs!" his cry rang out strong, and immediately the man in question appeared like he never left. "Your majesty," he cut to the chase "the docs are frozen solid and the longboats are marooned where they lay. Instead I had the sleigh ready for your journey." No sooner had he finished his sentence did they hear the thunderous hooves of Arendelle's most majestic horses. "Threil and Boron are strong; they should get you to wherever it is you want to go, your highness."

Trust Gibbs to think on his feet. He and his family have always been loyal to Arendelle's monarchy and now, in the most gut-wrenching moment of his life, he was never more grateful that he had the support of this balding fellow."Thank you, Mr. Gibbs." his words sincere with the slightest hint of exhaustion.

"Thank me when the child is born and queen back alive, Henry. Now go while there is still time!" He ordered, his brief laps in formality going unnoticed by everyone. Although not often did he speak to the king in this manner, it was clear to him that at this moment the man needed not a servant but a father in his stead. And since the late Callahan was no longer around for the honor then he guessed that he would just have to do. "God speed, my boy."

With a one final nod, the king turns and approaches the sleigh. The entire thing wasn't all that massive being able to carry only two people, the rider and the passenger. The sleigh was designed to travel quickly and to be able to maneuver around obstacles with ease and with the destination they had in mind this was exactly what they needed. Again, Henry was thankful for his friend's forethought.

Before climbing into the coach, he places his weary queen into the back seat ever so gently. He looks at her and he could just feel the pain that course through her body as if the agony were his own. "Please don't let this be a mistake." He caresses her flushed cheek with the back of his naked hand to reassure her as well as himself that there was still hope.

He puts his glove back on and grabs at the leather harness. He will the steeds forth with a practiced crack of the reigns letting out a loud "Hyah!" for good measure. Soon there was nothing left but the blur of their surroundings and the roar of the unforgiving wind in their ears; they were off into the cold and very much frozen fjord, their destination: the "Quarry of Songs", with hopes of finding a miracle.

* * *

There was some sort of commotion going on near the palace and having no better lead on the ominous voice's vague instructions, Jack goes to investigate.

"I should really stop calling the ominous voice the 'ominous voice'. It's starting to make my brain hurt."

Flying closer to the source of all the shouting, Jack sees a well dressed man talking to a balding chap, their panicked voices urging him to pay closer attention to their conversation. "Thank me when the child is born and queen back alive, Henry-" was all he needed to hear to make his eyes grow wide and come to the conclusion that they must have been the "they" the ominous voice was speaking of.

To some they might think that he was being a bit rash making presumptions like that. But one had to be in his shoes in order to understand as to why he came to that end. Having just spoken to the ominous voice, and with the rampant leftover energy that came with conversation, as well as not having any other option, it was quite easy to jump to conclusions as he had.

But he had to ask: what if he was wrong? 'Are they really the ones who need my help?' if they were not, then he saw no point in wasting time if they were not the correct "they".

'Do you see anyone else in the immediate vicinity talking about imminent death?' asks his ever present companion, sounding every bit as sarcastic as the real Jack.

"No."

'Well then, they're your best bet, Jack. Now's not the time for cold feet. Follow them and see where that leads.' Imaginary-Jack reasoned albeit cheekily.

Jack shakes his head to banish his thoughts but soon follows the instructions put upon him by his imaginary friend. The now moving convoy of horse and sleigh was well on their way and he had to catch up.

Past the fjord and into the forest, Jack finds himself flying just above the two horses that pull the sleigh forward. 'OK, so now what? I find the people that need my help. – I hope.' he added as an afterthought. 'But what do I do now, exactly?' Jack didn't really think too far ahead with his plan, being driven by the spur of the moment and all, but now, Crossing the quote-unquote bridge, he realizes how unprepared he was and how unsure he was of what he was doing.

"I hope you have a plan there, boy'o, 'cuz I have to tell ya: I'm really drawing up a blank here." He said, not bothering to raise his voice above the sound of thunderous hooves. He knew that he couldn't hear but all the same, he directed his words at the man who urges the horses to move full sprint.

Surprised, he liked to pretend that the man heard the words he had spoken to him despite the rule of ethereal silence, because, even without hearing the words, he got his answer.

* * *

"I can't believe I'm crazy enough to be doing this. Let's just hope that that book wasn't just full of horse manure." The horses whinny in response to their master's whispered thoughts to let him know that he'd been thinking out loud again. "Sorry, boys. Ignore me."

He tended to talk to himself whenever there was something going wrong or something stressing him out. Unknowingly, the king would start spouting off random information. The talking was a comical byproduct of his busy mind, and it actually helped him keep things in perspective. The only downside to it was that talking to himself tended to make him look quite insane. During all those times, however, Diana has always been around to help him reign in his tongue before he could say something he'd regret or before things got too ridiculous. "And if this fails, then I would risk Arendelle having to put up with a rambling king!"

"Hyah!" Time grows short and they weren't moving as fast as he would have wanted. If it were possible, he'd push for the horses to tread more quickly, but seeing as that the heavy set beasts of burden were already going as fast as they could go, egging them further would just have been cruel, not to mention impossible. The landscape didn't really help much either. The trees that dotted the mountain made it quite difficult to maneuver around; often times he'd have to duck to avoid low hanging tree branches or steer the horses away from exposed roots. Visibility was near nonexistent as the only source of light that they had was a lamp that was built in into the sleigh. And even with it lit to it's brightest, the valiant flame did little to help stave off the encroaching darkness that threatened to choke and grab at him.

Fear ruled this place and he could tell. If it were a lesser man standing in his position right at this moment they wouldn't have thought twice of abandoning this crusade, but the king did not let himself be affected by such petty fears. To him there was nothing besides the one goal that he has set himself against; this one mission he just could not afford to fail.

Through tree and bush; through water and ice they struggled their way to their destination and soon their quarry was close at hand. No sooner when they broke the tree line did he see the imposing form of the mountain. Snow gave way to rubble and trees grew ever more scarce as they were replaced by tall forms of stone the closer they drew to the rock-face. "Woah!" he said, pulling on the reigns to slow the mighty steeds.

As soon as the sleigh was slow enough to jump off of, the king wasted no time to do just that. His feet hit the ground running and his boots create a crunching noise as the gravel protest in their wake. He made a bee-line towards the rocky outcropping that constituted the quarries great walls, eager to see what the stone had to offer.

Upon closer inspection, he could see that the place looked a whole lot different from how he pictured it to be. Although he had no illusions that this was gong to be a simple task, he at least pictured the entire thing to be little less imposing than it actually was. Instead what he got was the exact opposite.

What stood before him was a giant of a mountain; its shadow so immense that it canvassed the entire field in ebony. Whatever light the moon had to offer, there was no seeing it here. Besides that, the entire area was just bathed in steam that poured forth from the many cracks scarring the ground creating a blanket that made it even harder to see. And finally, the walls themselves that surrounded the quarry were very steep and phenomenally high making it nigh impossible for anyone to scale its rocky crags. The king, however, had other plans.

If he remembered correctly, the book hinted that there was supposed to be some sort of door built in into the mountainous structure. "A door hidden in the shroud." the riddle said. Clearly the shroud spoken off was this mist that hung in the air and the door was somewhere within the quarry's rocky walls.

The riddle was easy enough to work out, but the real challenge, he realized, was not the riddle itself. The real challenge was finding the door. And looking at the size of it, finding that door was going to be a long road to hoe.

Having no real basis where to start, he begins by blindly feeling for whatever it is he was supposed to find. A crack, a seam, a knob, a lever, anything would have been swell. He just wanted to find that door and open it. "Come on, come on. Where are you?"

A few more minutes of relentlessly pawing at anything he could get his hands on, panic started setting in. He had no time for this! Alone, it would take ages for him to find the entrance and that was time his wife just did not have. Already he could see her fading. Mind you, she still fought keeping true to her stubborn nature but there was no denying the losing battle.

She was running out of time.

"Okay, stop." he ordered himself. "Fearing what is yet to come will only hide the answer." He knew the consequences of if he were too slow, but panicking would only hinder, not aid. He was certain that the door was here; he could feel it in his gut. It had to be here, it just had to be! He was just missing something; something vital. A secret. A key. What was it?

Stepping back from the quarry walls, he tried to focus his thoughts. He scrounged for every shred of knowledge he had about this particular myth. Not that there was much, but it had seemed to be enough as he was able to recall bits and pieces of the stories his grandfather used to tell him when he was but a child.

Memories played behind closed eyes. Him bathed in the soft glow of the fire, laying on his stomach on the floor as he listened in rapt attention to the stories his "Grampop" told him. His grandfather sitting on a high-back chair breathing life into every single word in the book he was reading with all enthusiasm. The overall image created in him a feeling of warmth. But the picture started to blur like looking through fogged glass. And it grew even more blurry as the memory started to fade, along with it, the information he needed to save the queen.

Like water through cupped fingers, the memory started slipping away from him. Slowly he was emerging from the dream he had immersed himself in. Too soon it was, for he had yet to obtain the secret needed to reveal the entrance to the Quarry of Songs.

He breathed in deep trying to relax as much as he could under the situation for he knew that chasing the memory would only drive it away faster than he would be able to recall. But if he'd let it settle then things would become much clearer; as ponds would after the playful ripples ceased to dance. Diana was the one who taught him that.

"Breath. Just breath." Slowly but surely the age old memory came with more vigor to its color, more feeling to its dull edge, and the smells where present as if the hot chocolate of that night were right there in his hands.

* * *

Grandpop, will trolls steal my left sock if I don't eat my peas?

What on earth are you talking about, boy? Of course they wouldn't steal your left sock! Troll's don't bother on wearing shoes, you see, so they have no need to steal them, much less a young boy's left sock.

But papa said they would.

Well then your father was just joking, my lad. He of all people should know that trolls are one of earth's nicest creations.

They are?

Why indubitably! In fact, if you were to befriend one, a troll could be your best friend for life.

Really?! Can you take me to them, Grandpop?

Ah, alas my boy, I could not for the trolls only reveal themselves to those with humble hearts and noble intent.

But I am! I'm super noble, Grandpop! And I'm the hublest prince in all of Arendelle too!

Haha! I'm sure you are, my boy. But until you learn to "submit yourself to the mountain" then you would never see them.

What does that mean, Grandpop?

In time, Henry, you'll learn what it means.

* * *

He remembered everything like if it were yesterday now. "Submit yourself to the mountain." He cited the forgotten words of his grandfather as his eyes open in silent contemplation. That must have been the secret; the key to the door.

But what does it mean to submit yourself to the mountain? "You should have explained clearer, Grandpop. You knew how I always hated riddles." He wished that the old codger was still there to help him. Times like this, his grandfather always had something wise to say; some profound proverb or the like that would somehow never fail to help him in sticky situations. And as if to indulge him of his request, his mind supplies him with an answer from yet another one of his memories.

Sometimes, Henry, the words don't need an explanation you just have to sit and let the story unfold.

His eyes grow wide as realization hits him like a ton of bricks. "Could it be? Could it really be that simple? Because with the night that I've been having, I could **really** use some simple right about now." He looks around to make sure there was no one to play audience for what he was about to do. For what other people would deem unthinkable for a king to do is exactly what was he was going to do.

He sucked in a breath and prepares himself for the unimaginable. The high ruler of all Arendelle, her king, her defender, her prosper-er rest on his knees and kneels before the mountain, head tilted down.

Seconds tick by and he wonders how long was he supposed to remain like this? He raises his head tentatively to see if there was any change to the stone only to see there was none. 'Simple my behind.'

The act of kneeling was not enough if the heart were not in the action. Here was hoping that showing his submission would have at least revealed the door, but the mountain demanded more than just mere gestures. It wanted to know if the king was of humble heart and pure intent.

'Enough of this nonsense!' His face contorts into a snarl. Enough was enough. He stands and approaches the mountain wall with quick and powerful strides only stopping a few feet in front of the massive rock face.

"Please. If you are not to open to me then at least do it for her! She deserves to live more than any other and if there were anything that I could give then I'd gladly pay the price if it means saving her life. Please." Though he came out strong, his demand ended in a humble whisper; the final word spoken like a prayer. One single word and yet it held so much.

Strengthening his resolve, he accepts what has to be done. He knew what it wanted and he'll give it what it wants. Let it never be said that the king never loved his queen.

He stoops down low as and brings his lips to the ground; the absolute show of surrender any king could ever make.

Once more he lifts his head up to look if there were any change in the stone wall only to be disappointed to see nothing yet again. In his entire life, never has he felt more foolish. Putting his faith in myths and legends, daring to hope that it would have been enough; that hope would have been enough, he should've stuck with logic. At least with logic he would have been in control. But here, at the mercies of the unknown, he has **never** felt more foolish; his countenance all but crumbles as he succumbs to the hopelessness of the situation.

Hope brought him this far, but like logic, it too has failed him. Standing now, he turns to the sleigh having every intention to spend whatever time he had left with his wife. So grieved he was of the fact that he were so close only to have victory snatched away from him.

His steps grew farther from the stone wall; each footfall making a sad monotonous beat in the dull silence of defeat. But as the distance grew between him and the quarry, before the sad echo of his boots started to fade, the earth started to emit a steady rumble growing in volume with each second that passed. In mere moments the ground resonated in a deep baritone and split open in a glorious show of power. The cracks spread wide stopping just before his feet that, if he were any closer, he would have fallen into the chasm bellow. Rock and stone fell from the heights and the king did what he could to avoid them.

And just like that, it was all over. The dust settles and the kings eyes grow wide at the sight that lay before him.

"Thank you. Thank you!" The door that his grandfather spoke of was nothing less than the entire wall splitting apart. The passageway hidden before did not reveal itself until he was well enough away from the danger as if it were waiting until it was sure he was safe.

"Hope. I'm really starting to like that word." he said, his tone a happy one as he goes back to the horses that miraculously was still there despite the startling events. He guides them into the quarry, his faith renewed. After all, what better affirmation for his outlandish gambles than the earth moving?

* * *

**Things are starting to heat up now, eh? Well that's the second chapter filled with awesome one person banter. ^^**

**Also I'd like to apologize for the last chapter as I've forgotten to put line divisions between the scenes. That's fixed now and you could reread it if you want.**

**As always, review and if you have to flame, please make it constructive or funny or both.**


	3. Chapter 3: SILENCE

**IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTES: **

**I have revised chapter 2 which is also the reason why chapter 3 took so long to be published. It's the oddest thing; I didn't realize this about myself until recently that I am the kind of writer that only sees the flaws in his work. Something in chapter 2 just rubbed me the wrong way and I just had to edit it. Now that I have, I'm happy to say that, that the "something" is but a minor chafe now.**

**So just a heads up: if you see an author's note with the word "IMPORTANT" in front of it, you might want to read it just in case I've changed anything important in previous chapters. I might just change some things in this chapter too if it doesn't sit well with me.**

**Besides that, Wow thanks for the reviews!^^ It's so sweet the things you said about my story and I hope that you guys stick with it until I finish this thing. It's going to be quite the ride, let me tell ya! Hehe.**

* * *

_"So I told the guy: Why don't you watch where you're pointing that thing? And then he was like: I points it where I wants it, Frostie! If you don't like it then you could just grab me arrows and shove it up your quiver! Can you believe that? And I thought Cupid was supposed to be the spirit of Valentines." – Jack _

_"…" – Sandman_

_"Yeah, I guess you're right. The guy was probably just having a bad day. I mean, his aim hasn't been all that good lately; he must've shot someone he wasn't supposed to and made them fall in love with a cow or something."_

_"…" – Sandman _

_"He already did that? Ew, that's just… disturbing." – Jack _

_"…" – Sandman _

_"You and me both, buddy. Look I have to go freeze something, catch you later. Good talk, Sandy" – Jack_

* * *

To say that jack was amazed would be the biggest understatement of his life. He's been around the block for quite a while now and seen some of earth's weirdest as well as most beautiful creations. But the sight presented before him was something he could safely say he had never seen before.

What he saw was the entire magnitude of the mountain be torn asunder by an invisible yet phenomenal force and Jack could just feel the sheer amount of magical power that made it possible to perform such a miracle. Mind blown he was as a dark corridor revealed itself leading its way into the unknown, its shadowy tendrils beckoning them to enter if they dared.

The winter spirit could not help but let out a low whistle of impressed adoration as he stood stunned marveling at the show of nature's power. "Well that's something you don't see every day. Wooh, creepy." He said, referring to the dark and dreary entrance that now presented itself full view. "I bet no one was expecting that, huh?"

He was talking to the human without looking, unbeknownst to him that his companions were already making their way into the heart of the dark path.

"Hey, hey! Woah! You can't just go in there all willy-nilly! You don't even know what's on the other side of that thing!"He yelled, he himself not stepping foot into the mountain. "Oi, you guys hear me?"(No they couldn't)"If something bad happens, it's not my fault!" If his shouts hasn't made it obvious that Jack wasn't too particular about going into the spooky cave, his nervous pacing certainly would. A little dubious, he bites his lips as he thought of reasons not to go in after the foolishly brave couple. 'Hey, I tried to warn them. It's not my fault they wouldn't listen.' Or should he say they couldn't listen? The reasons his mind came up with were not exactly what he was hoping for; it was quite the opposite to what he was hoping for actually. 'Fat load'a help you are. Whose side are you on anyway?'

He took in a deep breath as he came to the conclusion that he couldn't just let them go in alone and finally commits to his decision. Considering the magical nature of the quarry, he figured that he had more of an expertise with these kinds of things than the other two and that it was somewhat his responsibility to keep them safe from the invisible world. "Alright, fine! I'll come with you guys. No need to beg. Just don't say I didn't warn you!" With one last glance at the forest behind him, bidding farewell to all thoughts of escape, he enters the dark crevice and hopes for the best.

Hope. He was really starting to hate that word.

* * *

Inside the foreboding shadows of the corridor, he saw nothing but black. An eerie sense of stillness surrounded him as he blindly felt along the walls of the narrow passage. Each step was a struggle for balance as the floor rose and fell on occasion. "Remind me again why I'm doing this. Ow-"he tripped over a loose protrusion but continued his previous quandary. "For all I know I could be walking into something I really don't want myself to be walking into."

In his mind, Imaginary-Jack replies. 'Well, you're curious, that much is obvious. But I don't think that's enough of a reason to be doing this. If I'd dare to be poetic, I'd think that it's because, at the very core of your character, you're…a good person?' supplied his nonexistent friend, his own tone rising in confusion at his suggestion.

He really didn't know what to say to that even if it was himself who thought it. He knew he wasn't a bad person, but on the other hand he had to wonder if he was in fact a good person. Being the spirit of winter, he was never bothered to choose an allegiance between good and evil as long as he did his job right and that was fine with him. He was the kind of guy who'd rather stick to the gray zone anyway; neither in the midst of the dark or in the light. Instead he opted to live by one creed and that is: "He'd go where the fun takes him" and let that decide his loyalty.

"I'd submit to your first suggestion, but as for the second, eh, not so much. I don't think it matters anymore anyway. I got myself into this, and I'll get myself out. The question is, if I could find the-"his thoughts were interrupted as he saw a light shinning in the distance like a lantern lit for the weary traveler."-the light at the end of the tunnel! Finally!" The winter spirit was sick of the darkness and could wait no longer to get out of its shadows. Tripping once or twice, his pace grows frantic as he sped for the remaining distance.

Spots danced in his eyes as he was temporarily blinded by his sudden exposure to the light. 'Wasn't it night time just now? I didn't think I was in that cave for that long.' And he thought right; he hadn't been in that cave for more than fifteen minutes and it was definitely still night. What confused him was why the sun was already up.

But what he mistook to be the sun was actually the moon shinning brighter than it ever had before. It's ethereal glow bathing the entire space with a ghostly sheen, as if the Man in the Moon himself wanted to bear witness to what was about to happen this very moment.

Seeing him sit smack-dab in the middle of the sky in confirmation, Jack's doubts of if they were the right "they" are finally put to rest. 'If he was here then I must be on the right track. Well, glad we cleared that out. Only thing left is: now what?'

With his vision finally clearing, he could see that what he was standing on was some sort of depression in the stone. So wide it was and with it steadily growing in height as it came along the walls of the quarry, it gave the rocky domain a distinct bowl shape. What was in there with them were a couple of shrubs higher up the many levels of the quarry, a gnarled tree in the middle of the flat surface they were standing on, and finally, a couple of oddly shaped boulders that were scattered across the vicinity. Overall, besides the moon's presence, there was nothing spectacular about his surroundings. All the same, he kept a wary eye out for anything suspicious and slowly approached the caravan

The sleigh was a short distance away from him and he could see the man from before wandering around the quarry looking for someone or something, rather. "Not to be a stickler or anything, but this was kind of anticlimactic don't you agree?" said Jack just to feel the novelty of it. "If this was your idea from the start then I have to say: your planning skills leave a lot to be desired." His critique was not because he wasn't impressed but because, with everything else that had happened, the end had left him wanting.

Seeing that there was nothing he could really do currently, he makes for one of the many boulders to sit on.

* * *

He was there. He was in the fabled "Quarry of Songs". But the vision that surrounded him left him confused. This was supposed to be the home of the mythical rock trolls of North Mountain but instead what he saw was what appeared to be an abandoned pit.

It was not easy to lose hope, however, after all that he had just seen. If anything, the simplicity of the atmosphere encouraged him that this place was more than meets the eye.

Determination set, the king hops out the sleigh for the final leg of this journey. His eyes scan the view for anything in particular hoping to catch sight of "one of earth's nicest creations" only to dawn on the realization that 'I don't even know what a troll looks like.'

Other people have this premade notion of what trolls would look like, and he was no different. In their version, trolls were big hairy brutes with little intelligence, and having not seen a troll before, the king too has adopted this portrayal.

Though it was not obvious, facing the trolls was one of the things that made him nervous about this particular venture. Make no mistake, the king was not a coward, but to face armies and rebellions were one thing, asking help from a troll –well, he's never even seen one before, so he couldn't really say, but if he were to describe it then he was sure that it was going to be anything but normal.

Beggars can't be choosers, however, and in this situation he was definitely the beggar. "Please" he said. "If there's anyone there then I humbly request an audience." Giving a brief pause for the moment, he tries to hear if there were to be any form of response to his invitation. Nothing yet, but perhaps revealing the reason why he was here would help.

He straightens himself up; doing what he can to look presentable but ultimately fails due to the weariness that was catching up with him. All the same he continues with his plea. "M-my wife -" his shaky voice said, trying his hardest to sound calm and collected "- she's – she is ill, you see, and we've come a long way to -" but the terror they were faced with has proven too much even for him and an sniff escapes him which he tries to disguise as a deep breath and half a cough "- I *inhale* - I just…"

All this time he had tried to reel his emotions in; to keep the stoic façade of kingliness upon him. But now, with all the pain he was forced to bear, the façade all but crumbles leaving not but a desperate man in his stead. A man who wanted nothing else in the world than just to hold the woman he loved in his arms safe and sound. "Please. We have nowhere else to go."

He didn't care if he was begging anymore; there was only one thing he wanted now.

His words were punctuated with a tone of submission, letting those who might be listening know that he leaves the fate of his queen in their hands. Why? Because had to hope that she could be saved. He had to hope because, with how far they had gone, there was nothing left he could do but hope.

Moments pass and his wife grows weaker every second. 'Come on. Wherever these things are, they sure like keeping people in suspense.'

Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, he hears his first sign of reciprocation; a giggle so soft that he almost passed it off as a thing of imagination. He takes no chances, however, and listens even more carefully for any disturbances in the pregnant silence. "H-hello? Please, if there is anyone there. I need your help!"

* * *

It pained Jack to watch the man beg for the slightest chance of aid. He hasn't been with him for more than moment, just a short sleigh ride, but he could see that he loved the woman with him very much.

Then and there Jack never loathed it more to be invisible. If only there was something he could do. The burning desire to help these people ached within him and it was frustrating because he felt like that there **was** something he could do, he just didn't know what. He tried to think of anything; any possible way he could be useful. In the end, he came up empty handed.

Why then did the ominous voice ask help from him? Why him of all people when there was no way he could help? 'I have ice powers not healing powers. Not – not… I don't have doctor powers!'

The poor little winter spirit was brooding, and because of this, he wasn't able to notice that he started to pluck at the moss that covered the rock he was sitting on. All that occupied his mind at the moment was how helpless he felt in this situation and could do nothing but sit on his hands and wait for something to happen.

"Pffft – *snort* hgkkk – hgkkk." Something beneath him chuckles and Jack shoots up in surprise to look at the makeshift chair he was sitting on. Did his rock just… giggle? Rocks don't giggle unless… unless they weren't rocks at all! Intrigued now, Jack slowly approaches the spherical object and looks at it more closely. Now that he thought of it, it was odd how many there were of these perfectly round rocks lying around.

He goes down on one knee and, almost touching the stone orb, squints his eyes at the surface of it to see if what he theorized was correct. When he saw nothing in particular, he tries to mimic his actions of earlier and starts to pluck at the moss again.

He was pleasantly surprised when he was rewarded with a "girlish?" giggling noise. Moments later, an eye opens on the side of what he earlier assumed to be a rock and closes again as if pretending he didn't see.

The frost spirit's eyes grow wide with what he saw and turns to his companions eager to let them know that he had found something. But so ecstatic he was at his discovery that he couldn't even form a simple sentence to call the attention of the humans, settling for embarrassing vowel sounds instead. "Oh - ah - eh - hey-yay - woohoo - ay! He, uh - it, uh -"

"I'm a girl." The rock interrupted him albeit indignantly with her brief input cutting his manic tirade.

He turns to the female rock-form. "I'm sorry. Thank you." He replies, amending his previous statement. So quick and calm it was said that it made it sound like their conversation was the most normal thing in the world. But after he has given his say, he turns back quickly to the well-dressed man. The franticness from earlier comes back fiercer than before and words fly out of his mouth leaving no room for breath. "- She!" he corrected. "There's a thing on the thing with an eyeball on it!" The man, however, showed no sign of listening.

"Hey! Hey guys, I think I found what you're looking for!" He shouted louder when they still refused to look his way. "Oh come on, you guys. Just look!" With the way they were ignoring him, you'd think that wasting time right now was good thing. 'Oh right.' He mentally slapped himself; he kept on forgetting that they couldn't hear him. And thankfully too because he must've looked ridiculous just then with him flapping his arms about like that, complete with owl sounds; strange how it was so easy to lose himself in all this excitement.

"Well this complicates things."The term buzz kill wasn't invented yet but in this situation there was no better word to describe Jack's crestfallen figure. Scratching his head he tries to devise a plan to solve this minor yet annoying dilemma.

"H-hello? Please, if there is anyone there. I need your help!" came the shout of the man whom he was doing his best to help. The poor lad's voice sounded even more desperate now, like a man lost at sea and the only thing holding him up above the water was a flimsy piece of string and hope. Boat loads of hope.

The man spins around to look at his back where, strangely enough was the exact place where Jack was standing. Eyes dart around him like he'd seen a ghost, or perhaps… because he'd heard a ghost.

Through his musings he manages to notice something with what just happened. 'Wait a second. Did he just hear us? I think he did.' He turns again to the bolder contemplating if he should follow through the plan his mind just concocted. 'Well, it's worth a shot.'

"I think – I think he heard you. Quick, do that again!" He instructed his boulder friend. But it seemed that the rock was quite content being just that: a rock. He directed his gaze at it, trying to pierce its hard exterior. "I know you can hear me so I'm warning you; don't make me do something I'll regret!" warned he in a hard tone, the stone however took it no more than a bluff and remained in its spherical shape. 'Oh, so it's gon'na be like that, huh?' "Fine be that way, but know this: you brought this upon yourself! Now prepare for the most unpleasant tickle fight of your life!" his voice steadily rose to a crescendo as it reached the end of the final word.

Haphazardly he throws his staff somewhere behind him and cracks his knuckles in preparation for this most devious act. Without warning he attacks at the relatively small boulder in all angles, his fingers wiggling in every direction.

After a while of unrelenting tickling, his efforts were rewarded with even more laughter and soon the tiny boulder was no more than a puddled mass of giggling… "Troll?" Was this what the humans were looking for, a troll?

"Oh darn it, Bertha! We were told not to let the humans see us until Grandpabbie was awake." Spoke something to his right.

"I can't help it! You know how ticklish I am!" Responded the rock-turned-troll he was torturing earlier.

"Yeah, you know how ticklish she is. Don't be so hard on her, Friegga." Again something spoke but this time he couldn't tell where it came from because the entire quarry started to hum and fill with natterings. The many voices heard made it sound like they were in a market place filled to the brim with people and vendors whose voices tried to rise over the other.

"Trolls!" exclaimed the surprised gasp of his human companion.

'Worked like a charm!' Job well done and satisfied with the reaction he managed to cause, he claps his hands together like brushing dust off of his palms and casually goes to pick up his staff once more. "Huh, that worked." He said a little disbelievingly that his plan actually did the job, his crooked grin threatening to split his face in two.

* * *

"Trolls!" They were not at all as others said they were; they weren't big nor were they hairy but instead they were relatively petite and, dare he say it, adorable. Why, these things weren't scary at all. With their small rotund bodies, hair of grass and clothes made out of moss, he could hardly imagine them to be the monsters they were portrayed as in fairytales. And he was never more happy that he no longer had to face the nightmare described in old children's books.

'At last, an audience!' Some progress can finally be seen from all their hard work. The king wastes no time trying to figure out who was in charge; maybe they would be able to give them the aid he so desperately cleaves. "Can any one of you help me, please? My wife, she needs healing!"

All at once the wriggling mass of trolls stops and turns to him at the same time, their bewildered faces creating the perfect picture of synchronization. 'They even blink at the same time.' his fatigued mind notices bemusedly.

"It's the king!" Someone finally notices. How they knew he was a king, though, he did not know, but at least now he was getting somewhere. "Quickly, someone go get Grandpabbie!"

"But Grandpabbie's not done with his nap yet; we can't just wake him up!"

"Friegga, can you just please!" The trolls acted like they were siblings with the way they bickered at each other, and perhaps they were, but as adorable as they are, he had no time for their antics. He'd ask them to stop if only he could get a word in edgewise, but their mouths, like running faucets, were difficult to put a stopper on.

"H-Henry." a soft voice whispered, diverting his attention to the person who just spoke.

So long it felt since the last time she had called his name and the small voice needed not sound so loud because, even in the clamor that continued to surround him, he could never mistake the beautiful voice of his queen. Henry swiftly runs to her prone form that lay in the carriage, fearing the worst for her welfare.

"No, Diana, save your strength. You –"there was more that he wanted to say but a one delicate finger placed on his lips halts his speech. Surprised at the action he stares at the owner of said delicate finger.

"Help me up, Henry."

Now he wasn't too sure how to respond to that. Concern prevented him from doing what she has asked him to do. Being that there was no mistaking the queen's weakened state, he knew that trying to do anything too strenuous might prove too much for her and aggravate her condition further. He was wary, to say the least, if he should concede to her request.

"Henry, up. NOW."

Sorry, not request; her command. He wasn't sure if he should follow her command. Her steely gaze and strict voice whose tone brokered no argument, however, was all that was needed to sway him.

Reluctantly he goes to support the stubborn lass. The king steadily lifts her up onto her feet using himself as a crutch. Once standing, the queen gently pushes him away as to say that she could take it from there. Taking in a deep breath, she stands regal and proud making it look like it took no effort when there was so much pain in her still.

She looks around her in a calculating manner trying to see how to best approach this delicate matter and settles for the old tried-and-true method. "SILENCE!" Her shout rang loud and clear across the quarry, filling its expanse with the loud echo of her words. The echoes that bounced off the rock created symphony that was almost divine-like, enhancing the commanding effect even more.

'God, I love that woman.' He thought, dazed and forever amazed at the sheer tenacity of his petite beloved.

"My husband has something to say and you will do well to listen. Is that clear?" She asked. Whispers of agreement were all that was given to her, but a queen did not settle for reluctant obedience. "I said: is that clear?" A queen demanded absolute compliance. Her shout rang louder and truer than the last and this time she got what she wanted.

A loud chorus of "Yes, your majesty"s could be heard this time as all eyes, including his wife's, turn to him for instruction.

It takes some time for him to realize that they were expecting him to say something, and when he notices this, immediately he tries to form his thoughts in order to tell them exactly what they need "My wife is with child." Again, he tries to word their dilemma, making sure this time that they understood the gravity of their plight. "But something is keeping it from being born. I don't know how this could be nor do I care at this moment. All I want now is your assistance. Help her, please." Emotions try their best to surface themselves again but he keeps them down with a shuddering breath through the nose. His eyes that settle on the queen, however, belay his feelings all the same. "She is all that means to me."

Finally being able to say what he had to say, he was left feeling drained, the night's fatigue catching up with him. He couldn't give up now, though; if Diana was still standing it would be embarrassing if he stops now.

"I will try my best to do as you ask, your highness." replied a ragged voice somewhere in the crowd. The gaggle of troll parted to make way for the one whom was wisest and oldest of them all, Pabbie, grand shaman of the trolls.

The aging troll rolls towards them and stops right at their feet. He unfurls himself to reveal an old yet kind and caring face. "Now, you said something about a child?" He asks like a doctor would a patient.

"Yes, she -" the king wasn't able to finish his sentence as he was forced to catch the woman that's stood beside him as she collapsed to her knees. Her act could only go for so long and now her strength has waned.

"Come this way, quickly!"

* * *

**Chapter 3, ladies and gentlemen.**

**Again I'd like to thank the audience for their undying patience in waiting for this chapter. And if your patience has died while waiting for this chapter then I wish this was enough to rekindle your dying breaths.**

**As always, review and if you have to flame, please make it constructive or funny or both.**


	4. Chapter 4: POWER OVERWHELMING

_"I've always admired humans; so frail; so fleeting. Compared to us, their lives are like breath, and yet they are still strongest creatures I have ever known. Compared to them, we no longer feel the sting of time as badly as they do. People like us, we don't realize how precious the moments we have on this earth. To humans, however, every second counts. Every moment of joy, hope, and wonder will always be cherished. To people like us, it is just job now." – North_

_"Yeaaahh… Okay, so what does any of that have to do with baking fruit cake exactly?" – Jack_

_"Art of baking is not just for eating, Jack. Making cake is part of fun!" – North_

_"Uhuh, you go do that. Just tell me when it's ready so I could start eating." – Jack_

* * *

Pabbie led them to what looked like a stone slab, "Place her here."

The man, who Jack found out was the king, carried his queen bridal style to where he was instructed to, placing her as gently as he could onto the hard surface of the platform.

Jack knew things were bad but he did not know how bad it was until he saw the state her majesty was in. Sweat poured from her skin, matting what hair that had escaped her loose disheveled bun onto her forehead. Her breath came in short gasps as she clenched and unclenched her hands in pain. Groaning noises sounded through her gritting teeth as if she were trying to hide her pain.

Jack's heart went out to her as he saw this. He may not have known these people for very long but something about their fighting nature made him just wish that they'd pull through. They made him wish that this troll of a shaman could actually make things right.

"Please tell me you could save her…"

"Pabbie. You could call me Pabbie, your highness. And yes, I could save her… -" Jack could almost see the relieved yet unshed tears that threatened to spill out from the king's eyes as Pabbie said those words even from his distance, but the spirit could feel, however, that there was a "but" attached somewhere in that sentence. "- … but as for the child, of that I am not certain." Damn it. He was right.

Although however brief it was, an expression of sadness paints itself on the poor man's face before it was buried under the king's stoic mask. "Do what you must, Pabbie." He relented. It tormented him to say those words, and Jack could tell that it did, but how could he just accept that? Was there really no other way? No other way to ensure that both of their lives would be saved?

"Hold on a minute there, guy. Are you telling me that we went all this way and we're not even sure we're going to save the kid?!" asked Jack aloud.

He wasn't sure what was making him so emotional about it; he had no lot in with these people after all, but when he heard the king concede to what may or may not happen, he could not help but voice his objections. "You can't just let the kid die!"

"We all do what we must to save the ones we love, winter spirit."

* * *

Henry wasn't sure why Pabbie just called him a "Winter Spirit" or what exactly the old troll was looking at, but he simply assumed that the elder was just reassuring him of his decision and nodded in agreement to what the shaman had said. Words could not describe the sorrow he felt when he was told that his child may not survive. Though he may have been frightened at first at the prospect of being a father, he has come to look forward to having a son or daughter. Nonetheless, that joy has been robbed of him.

Beggars could not be choosers.

With the flutter of his cloak, the troll turns away from him and faces his wife's prone form. He closes his eyes as he says a soft prayer too hush to hear and in a language too old to understand before lifting his hands up above his head. The shaman started to wave his staff above her body and after one pass, immediately her entire figure is doused in green light; twice and she started to float an inch above the stone slab. It was not until the third pass did she start to scream.

Panicked, he asks what was happening. "What are you doing?! Your hurting her!" while his wife's howls of agony continued to fill the air.

"I am purging her of the taint that has corrupted her body. I am trying to repair the damage done to her by dark magic, only then will she be strong enough to deliver your child." He explains calmly as he continued to brandish his staff about.

'Dark magic? Since when did dark magic get involved in all of this?' He did not know what should concern him more: his wife's current distress or the fact that someone sought to harm her through the arcane arts? The king couldn't tell If Pabbie, on the other hand, was nervous about dealing with dark forces. If he were, then he was really quite skilled at hiding it, either that or he was too busy to be afraid. Henry hoped that Pabbie knew what he was doing, because even if the troll wasn't nervous, he was nervous enough for the both of them.

* * *

"We all do what we must to save the ones we love, winter spirit."

Everything in the world grinded to a halt for Jack; he wanted to believe it but it just couldn't be possible that Pabbie was able to see him, could he?. His body froze and refused to move, paralyzed in disbelief. He wasn't easy to convince after years of being invisible, but could it be or was it just desperation playing cruel tricks on his mind? "C-can you see me?"

He wasn't favored an answer, however, as the troll spun to face the queen to begin his ritual. Pabbie made a few gestures and after that, things started to happen. There was some floating and glowing involved, but what caught Jack's attention the most was that feeling again; the feeling of overwhelming power. Whatever Pabbie was doing, he didn't know, but one thing that it did was prove to Jack that this troll was definitely the one who let them in here in the first place.

How was he so sure though that Pabbie really was the one who did that? Two things set him off to this conclusion. First: beings such as he, beings that were granted nature's gifts leave a kind of signature whenever they use their powers; a scent, if you will; a scent that could be felt rather than smell. And it was this sent that he could smell back at the wall that used to cover the quarry. Second: although he was still doubtful, was the fact that Pabbie was able to see him.

A heady aroma of tree and earth filled the air as Pabbie's ritual continued, his power filling the quarry to the brim almost suffocating Frost. Perhaps that was why he could see him? Maybe because of all that magic, it rendered the veil useless to hide from him what was hidden to others?

"Aah!" He wasn't able to finish his train of thought as it was broken by a scream. The ear splitting cry did well to bring him out of his thoughts as he was hauled back into reality. With his focus back in the now, he was able to tell that the sounds were made by none other than the queen herself as she writhed in the air.

What was he doing? Was she supposed to be screaming like that or was hurting her just a side effect? The king let his apprehension known with his panicked shouts but the troll explained it was necessary because…

What Jack heard next sent a very human chill up his spine and so odd it was because it had been so long since he felt anything akin to the cold. But be that as it may, right at that very moment that was exactly what he was feeling; he was cold to his core, and for once in his life, he didn't like it one bit.

"Dark magic?" His whisper was soft for he felt that if he said it any louder it would bring bad will to all who were present. "Oh, no."

He was right to be afraid, because any spirit worth their salt would know what dark magic is. Dark magic was an unspeakable evil; a taboo art fed by all things dark in this world; it is the forbidden arcana only practiced by those who embraced hate and deceit. How could he have missed that? Now that it was pointed out, Jack could feel it linger in the air along with Pabbies energies, like flies to rotting flesh; it was faint, but nevertheless, it was there all the same.

Was that the cause of it then, the queen's difficulty to bear her child? Either there were only small traces of it in her body or whoever placed it there was powerful enough to conceal it from him, only then would it explain why the scent was able to elude him.

Whatever it was, Jack hoped fiercely that it was the former because if it were the latter… -; already small amounts would almost always affect immortals such as him to some degree. That being said, he couldn't even begin to imagine of what it could do to a human.

"Argh!" check that; he could imagine.

From the green glow of her body came bolts of energy that lanced outwards toward the spectating crowd of trolls sending them into a panicked frenzy for safety."Back! Back away all of you, now!" Pabbie ordered them and they obeyed. Already they were well enough away from danger and only those who remained now were the king, Pabbie, and Frost.

"Pabbie, what's happening?!" The king asks as he tries to cover his face to protect it from the ferocious gale that was starting to stir.

With the wind blowing harder now than from when it began, Pabbie tried to make his voice louder just to be heard. "The evil refuses to release its hold on her! I'm trying to purge it with what power I can but anymore magic from me and she might die from the cure itself!"

It was true, Pabbie would have given it all he's got to cure her of the darkness that ravaged her body, but the simple fact was that he couldn't lest he kill her too in the process.

Be it spirit, human or mythical creature, it was impossible for anyone to handle so much magic from only **one** source, because if one power grew stronger than the other then it would become corrupt, the spirit overwhelmed and later be destroyed. But there was another way. 'Maybe if I could…' Jack wondered.

"Pabbie let me help." If he lends his powers, he theorized that perhaps together they would be able to cure her without overwhelming her spirit.

In this theory of his he pictured three ponds; these three ponds representing each of their energies, the queen's, Pabbie's, and his. If Pabbie's pond poured too much water into the queen's, he runs the risk of drowning her. But enter Jack's own pond into the equation then Pabbie wouldn't need to apply anymore of his magic than he has too but still has Jack to back him up. With their powers working in tandem then perhaps it would prove too much for the evil magics and be purged once and for all. The key was balance; to not let one's power grow stronger than the others. If their energies remained in the same amount as the host's then it might just work…at least that was his theory, which wasn't really saying much. 'Hey, what have we got to lose, right?'

'You don't have anything to lose, Jack. They, on the other hand, have everything to lose, which is why this has to work.' He was reminded by his invisible friend who was starting to sound suspiciously like the ominous voice.

'Cheery thought, thanks. So no pressure, right?' like he needed anymore incentive. He tries again to get the older troll's attention. "Pabbie, if you'd just let me help then maybe we could save her together."

Jack waited patiently for Pabbie's permission but crucial seconds pass and Pabbie continued to refuse his help with his silence; either that 'or he really just can't hear me after all.' He'd known that it was too good to be true. His sullen thoughts weighed on him as a myriad of emotions flitter across his eyes at this revelation. Yet again he dared to hope and yet again his hopes were dashed at the hands of the very same silence that he had faced for decades.

A feeling of total helplessness comes over him slowly, creepingly; it's every intention of making this moment last as long and as excruciating as possible. It wasn't fair! How was he supposed to help if no one could see or hear him? Why bring him all the way out here just to make him watch his failure?

His eyes focus on nothing and everything as his mind floats from thought to mournful thought. His soul was in despair but what Jack didn't realize was that these thoughts were distracting him from Pabbie's response; almost missing the words spoken to him.

What caused Pabbie pause was that he needed a moment to weigh the pros and cons to Jack's aid. In the end there was just no time and he couldn't afford to not accept the spirit's offer. "What do you have in mind, Master Frost?" Pabbie asked him in a gravelly voice, his focus still on the queen but sparing Jack an exhausted sideways glance.

His eyes snap back into focus. "W-what?" The bewildered question jumps out his mouth without his permission and he tries not to sound too hopeful. 'So he **could** see me?' Relief and elation floods Jack as his question was proven true with Pabbie's words.

Before the boy could lose himself in celebration, however, "Your help boy!-" Pabbie interrupts him with his scolding. "How are you going to help?" this was no time to be celebrating even if the reasons to be doing so is quite phenomenal to the spirit.

"Huh?" Jack realizes that he was in fact wasting precious time with him just standing idly by; another time, perhaps he would celebrate, but now he goes to explain his plan. "Right- the queen. Death. Idea!" half formed sentences escapes him as the urgency of the situation settled again like a lead weight in his stomach. Pabbie in part tried to comprehend his babbling as best he could even though the spirit was rushing through some details. With the clock ticking against them, Jack made sure to only let the important stuff known; bits like the pond and rather were left out. 'No need to look like a four year old in front of the thousand-something troll, am I right, Jack?'

'Oh, shut up.' Okay, sure he wasn't too good with the metaphors and such but could you blame him? He wasn't able to talk to anyone for a hundred years; his communication skills weren't up to par. Sue him.

"Let me see if I understand. So your plan is to add even **more** magic into her system?" Pabbie asked incredulously.

"No, not more, only a different source." Maybe he would've understood better if he'd put in the pond bit too after all.

After he'd finished explaining the full extent of his plan, the troll was left looking at Jack like he had grown two heads. Pabbie shakes his head as if to banish the stupidity of it all. "That's insane!-" He was disbelieving and Jack could understand why; his plan sounded even more mad now that he had said it out loud. But what other option did they have?

"Yeah, I know but just hear me ou-"

"-Let's do it." Pabbie agreed unexpectedly before he could better explain himself.

"No, you don't understa- a-wai-what?" Did he have a snowball stuck in his ear or something because for a moment there it sounded like the troll just gave him the go? Jack was taken aback to say the least. "I mean- Yeah! Let's do it.-" He tried to sound game but his voice didn't sound as upbeat as he had hoped because he himself, he realized, wasn't too sure about this, especially with Pabbie agreeing with him so abruptly. 'Yes. Just like that? Did he even think this through?' Maybe he should take it back. "-ok, but are you sure about this? I mean, there are a lot of things that could go wrong here, bad things. Sure, I might have sounded convincing just now but my plan isn't exactly fool proo-"

"Are you trying to dissuade or persuade me, boy? Make up your mind!" Jack was just confusing him now.

"I'm not trying to do anything!" He retorted as his arms gesticulated animatedly. "I'm just putting it out there as a - as a plan B type of thing!" He emphasized, gesturing to the "plan B type of thing" as if it were right next to him.

'Enough talk.' Pabbie raises his free hand towards Jack telling him to hush. "No. No more words; it's time for action."

Jack let's out an audible gulp, comically making his Adam's apple bob up and down. Whatever happens, he knows full well that it's because he had to open his big mouth. 'Oh, man.'

'You did want to help, right? Well, here's your chance, chief. Show'em what ya got!' His other self was having way too much fun with his current predicament. He was right, though; he did want this, and now was his chance to actually do something.

Taking one final calming breath, Jack submits himself to Pabbie's instruction. "Where do you want me, Pabbs?" He breaths out. To say that he was nervous would have been putting it lightly.

Pabbie breaks focus for a moment and the intense glow that surrounded the queen dims slightly as he lowers her back down onto the slab. The earth troll guided Jack to a spot right besides the stone table right across from where he would be standing and proceeds to tell the spirit what to do. "Alright, Jack, in order for this to work, what you need to do first is calm yourse-"

"Calm; got it. I'm all about calm. Calm thoughts, calm breaths, calm everything. You won't see me nervous, no sir!" He was calm. Wasn't it obvious he was calm? Why, he wasn't scared at all.

Who was he kidding? He was scared witless! There was no backing out now though.

"-Jack, let me finish. You need to understand how crucial it is that you keep your powers under control. Now your plan might work, but it also presents a newer problem. With the two of us, it would be all too easy to overwhelm the queen even more now. If this happens the consequences could be…dire."

Again with the pressure, can't these people see he was scared enough as it is? "Yeah, Pabbie? What you're doing, it's the opposite of helping." His brows tilt downward at the troll whose words inadvertently just made things worse for him. 'So much for no pressure.' he thought as he lets out a sigh of exasperation.

Pabbie gives Jack a look of apology and walks back to the rock stool he was standing on previously as the frost spirit begins to take about a calm aura around himself. 'Let it begin.' Pabbie thought solemnly.

* * *

Henry was having trouble understanding what was happening specially with Pabbie acting all crazy, but from what he was able to deduce was that the troll was talking to someone, it seemed; someone called Jack Frost. Now, why did that name sound familiar?

"… the consequences could be… dire."

That got his attention. Dire was never a good thing, especially now with his queen the way she is. The troll sounded reluctant and unsure when he stated his warning, but at the same time, resigned, and this worried Henry greatly.

Now Henry would like to think that he'd been quite trusting of Pabbie; keeping his faith that the old troll was helping despite his… concerning methods. The glowing he could handle; the floating he could handle; even the screams, but what he couldn't handle was uncertainty. What use was all the pain the queen was forced to endure if Pabbie himself was doubtful of the results of their endeavor?

"Pabbie." He called to the troll, desperate for any sort of reassurance.

Turning to him, the troll looked as though he just realized that he was still there. "Forgive me, highness, I didn't mean to give you the cold shoulder. But rest assured that I may have found a way around to curing your wife." The troll's calm, old voice soothed the feelings of anxiety that started to bubble forth from inside of him, but as observant as Henry was, he couldn't help but notice the word "may" from what the shaman had said.

"May? You're not sure?"

"I will not lie to you, Henry. Never before has a cure such as this been ever attempted by anyone. It's a gamble and a foolhardy one at that." He spoke emphatically, leaving no room to assumption. The troll hid nothing and explained how high the cost would be should ever they fail. The king was starting to feel anxious again but before Henry lost himself in the dread "But" Pabbie injected. "I… _believe…_ that we would succeed."

Belief, faith… hope: these were words that were fast becoming a big part of his vocabulary recently. And it would seem that again hope required more of him than he was ever prepared to give. 'It's got us this far,' He thought contemplatively, his lips a thin line of indecision. 'God, help me.' Resigned. 'What the hell.' Acceptance.

Henry accepts Pabbie's explanation for the time being and backs off, his eyes, however, never leave the queen. He gazed and it was filled with so much longing. How he wished that it were all a dream; that his wife was safe and their child was already there in their arms. Instead, here they were, battling just to stay alive and still even that is not set in stone.

'What is that smell?' The unexpected thought popped into his head. A faint aroma wafted in the harsh breeze like soft whistling in the midst of all the distressing noises in his mind. 'Peppermint?' he takes another deep whiff of the air. 'Definitely peppermint.' the smell was calming and cool and somehow it comforted him. How it did that, he was not sure, but he liked it just the same. With the beating his body, mind, heart and soul had gone through, the small reprieve was very, very much welcome.

* * *

With Jack prepared, Pabbie goes back to situate himself in his previous spot from across the queen, exactly opposite of where Jack was standing. Pabbie picks up from where he left off and lifts both his hands over the queen's prone form, staff in one hand open palm with the other.

After a while of concentration their energies started to manifest in a form of glowing which surrounded itself around the queen. With each second that passed, their power grew, and few seconds longer, began to meld; two forces, one purpose. As one, Jack and Pabbie began to draw out the evil magics like poison from a wound.

"Aah!" She screamed and the woeful cadence begs him pause in his efforts. He hesitates and starts to slacken the amount of magic he's using, unsure if they were doing it right.

"No! Don't stop! It's working!" encouraged Pabbie while still keeping his eyes closed in focus.

"Well it doesn't sound like it's working!" countered Jack.

"The last remnants are always hardest to purge. Focus, were almost done here!"

Jack renews his vigor and unwittingly started to mimic Pabbie's actions; raising his hands in the air and creating an arc with both his and Pabbie's staves over the queen.

Power started to build and colors started to dance. Bolts of magic flew through the air and the wind grew to such a degree that the tempest that buffeted the quarry was all that could be heard.

Brow set in determination, Jack forged on despite the strain, his face creasing with his struggles. The ritual was more draining than he thought it would be. He didn't expect it to feel like this; like his very soul was going to be sucked out into a sunless void. But he was hell-bent to see this through and so held out as best he could. Just then, when his strength was about to fail him... silence.

All things grew to a crescendo: sight, sound, smell, touch; everything. Their senses were pushed to the precipice of their thresholds and what was left was blinding. A canvas of flawless ivory enfolded him, leaving him feeling afloat in an oblivion made of light. And in the light, all was still; all was still as if the very concept of time did not exist in where he was. Here too in the light, there was quiet; in this split second of a second, Jack found silence from all the distressing noises of the world.

He was trapped, but at the same time he was free.

'Well done, my son, but things are far from over. With your actions, the end has been left undecided, unwritten; hope now is in your hands.' The ominous voice spoke, and in the stillness and silence of the light he was deafening.

* * *

**Oh, dear me, that took me long to post did it not? Sorry about that ladies and gents.**

**One more chapter and that should wrap up the intro to my heartwarming saga^^. Intro? That was just the intro?! Say wha'!?** **Yep, it's true. One last chapter and I'll start bringing Frozen in into my story. Thanks for the wait guys.**

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	5. Chapter 5: NO GOOD DEED

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* * *

_Sometimes I wonder what it would be like... to be human; to laugh, to cry; to play, to work; to fall in love one second then get your heart broken the next; to live then to die. I wonder, I really do, if humans live more in a second than winter spirits could ever hope for in a hundred years. It's just so… **weird** how they could enjoy life so much when their moments aren't even a smidgen of forever... but if I were really honest with myself, I'd say I was jealous. Is it really worth it; to have an end; to place a period to the last words of your story?... – Jack_

~ At the top of Mt. Everest chatting with the moon.

* * *

The light had gone as quickly as it came; a split second of a second it was. And when Henry was done blinking away the bright spots in his vision, he saw Pabbie and Diana right there where they had always been. What had him going for the sword he had sheathed at his side, however, was the man standing right next to them. 'Where on earth did this man come from!?'

Before he had the chance to take action, he was stopped as Pabbie spoke. "We've done it!" the old troll exclaimed. "It's gone! Your plan, it actually worked!? Hah!"

'Plan? What plan?' The king wondered. 'Who's plan? Is he talking to the odd looking man with white hair?' There were so many questions he wanted to ask but one question he wanted answered above all others was that of his wife's well-being. Henry pushes aside his reservations about the white-haired fellow for now, his mind, instead, being occupied of thoughts of concern about his queen. "Pabbie, what of Diana? Will she be -"

Pabbie excitedly turns towards the king with the answer before he was able to fully word his worries. A gentle smile on his face, Pabbie continues what the king was about to ask "- _Alright_? Yes, lad, I am very glad to say that your wife -" before he'd go and tell him of the excellent news, Pabbie takes a pause to savor the moment eyes closed. "- she is going to be just fine, your highness."

No speak in the tongues of men, troll or any other language in this world would have ever been enough to put into words the relief that had flooded him that very night. It felt like the entire world was lifted off of his chest and finally he could breathe again. 'She's going to be fine? She's going to be fine. She's going to be fine!'

The proper word was: speechless. Henry was speechless that it was finally over. He was speechless after everything that they had been through, through all the doubt and uncertainty, **against all odds** (and taking into account that this entire venture was based off of nothing but a dusty tome and a couple of old bedtime stories, the odds were pretty high), his gamble – no – his _desperate_ bid with fate was rewarded in the most unimaginable way he thought possible; his queen was going to be just fine. He wasn't sure if he should jump for joy, cry in relief or faint in disbelief, instead he opted to just stand – speechless.

There was just one thing he forgot.

Without warning, the queen started screaming again but for an entirely different reason. The king did not know what this reason was though and so started panicking, relief the farthest thing from his mind.

"What's happening now!? Is there darkness in her still!?" he asked Pabbie. Just when he thought it was over, it is not. All this suspense was going to be the death of him; he just knew it!

Pabbie gives a confused glance at the queen; he was so sure that everything went as well as could be expected of an impromptu aura merge. Why then was she still in pai - ? Oh! "Didn't you just say that your wife was having a baby?" he asked but it was actually more of stating a simple fact and he'd even said it with such a straight face like discussing the weather rather than about a woman in the throes of childbirth.

"Oh right…" How in heavens name was he able to forget that? He should slap himself for such an egregious oversight. 'Damn it Henry! Stupid! Stupid!' He chastised himself; never a dull moment here in the kingdom of Arendelle, no sir.

"Aah!" her wails turned guttural and more of labored groaning rather than just pained screams. "Hrgh!"

Not knowing what to do, King Henry does what any sensible husband would do in such a situation _–_ he started to pull his hair out. 'From one problem to the next! It just piles on doesn't it?' He ran his hands through his scalp; his formerly formal strawberry-blond locks now a hopeless mess on the top of his head. It was not until the nth time that he ran his fingers through his disheveled mop did he notice that 'Why isn't anyone doing anything?'

"Pabbie, what are you doing? Don't just stand there; do something!" He desperately shouts at the shaman.

The troll let out a short surprised chuff of laughter as old men do when they find their grandchildren asking them for the most unusual things, as if it were unthinkable to even ask. "What makes you think I'd know what to do? I'm a shaman, boy, not a doctor." Oh, yes, because that was the most obvious thing about the situation wasn't it? Never mind the woman currently in the middle of delivering a baby.

'Seriously!?' Henry couldn't believe what was happening! Was this supposed to be a troll joke? Because if it is then it wasn't funny! It was anything but funny. Yet again he runs his hands through his hair in frustrated disbelief. "You can't be serious! How on earth can you tell me that you don't know what to do? You're hundreds of years old for Pete's sa-"

"Mmm- Henry…" Diana called, holding her hand out for her husband to take.

Cutoff from his tantrum, Henry quickly runs to be at her side, his anger forgotten and in its place replaced by apprehension. He places his hands on her round belly and sweaty forehead and started to rub invisible patterns on her brow willing the creases on her pinched face gone with his efforts. 'Oh, Lord, not this again.' He thought in anguish. Even though with everything that had happened in the past two hours, nothing could change the fact that he was still just a soldier, and still he knew not what to do with these kinds of things.

"Hen…ry, gi-v… mn-e… your hand." She tried to say while blindly reaching out for him. Her voice sounded so soft; he could barely hear her now. And the sad tinkling of her voice did not fail to fill his heart with sorrow. How could he have let this happen? What kind of king was he that he could not even protect his own queen?

"What is it, Love? What do you need?" He asked again as he could not understand and missed her first speak. This time attentive to hear her voice, he inclined his ears in order to not miss a single word.

"G-give…"

"Yes?"

"…Me…"

"Yes? What is it, Diana? Tell me what you need!" Dread clawed its way through his heart with the way she seemed to drag air into her lungs. He did not mean to shout it was just that he feared that all of a sudden his wife would just stop talking and never be heard again; he was afraid of what her silence would entail. That was why she had to speak, to keep talking; so that he would not sink into his fears of losing the woman he loved to the eternal silence. Whatever he could do he would do it for her if it means saving her life, but he couldn't do it if she'd never told him what she wanted in the first place. "Ooof!"

Her hand, like lightning, quickly latches onto his collar dragging him down close to her face. "Your hand, Henry!" she screamed at him, very frustrated and **very** much in pain. "You know those things at the ends of your arms? Could you please. Give. Me.** One**!?" One second helpless, furious the next; her yelling surprised everyone even him, and actually made Henry tilt his head back at the volume of her command. Angry eyes open to stare at his stunned face expectantly, and immediately he surrenders the hand that he had on her stomach to the cranky queen."Thank you. You see? Now that wasn't so hard now was it? Honestly, Henry."

For her to shout at him like that, he was actually more relieved than shocked. Relieved _–_ because to see her so fiery again meant that she was starting to get her old strength back. The dark magics must've done a real number on her for her to turn from this fierce woman to a cowering little girl. But with Pabbie's help, they were able to cure her of her curse and now she was back to being the beautiful queen he has always known and loved.

"Pabbie, would you be so kind as to catch my baby?" The queen requested but sounded more so of a demand.

"Of course, your grace." complied the troll pleasantly. Pabbie followed her orders and was soon standing at the end of the stone table ready.

"Alright, gentlemen, let's do this quick; I don't want to be late for dinner." She joked.

'That's my queen' He thought in pride. Weak and frail just wasn't her style, and looking at her now, the past two hours almost seemed like a distant memory.

Slowly around them a crowd started to grow. With the fireworks finally dying down, at last the trolls were able to approach and watch the spectacle that was about to unfold. They kept a relatively safe distance, however, just in case there were anymore stray bolts of magic that decided to surprise them.

Henry paid them no heed, though; his attention solely on the woman who was steadily crushing the bones in his hand into powder. She squirmed and she kicked, grunted and pushed, and every time she did so she would apply even more pressure to his already numb appendage; a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things. Compared to her this was but a minor thing; he could only imagine the pain she was going through right now.

"Mrr! Henry, this is all YOUR FAULT!" She cried all of a sudden. "I swear, when I'm done, I am absolutely going to make you regret ever being born a man!" If only she were thinking straight she would realize how silly her threat was; it wasn't like he had any say on which gender he'd prefer before being born into the world. But the simple fact was that she was giving birth; a little bit of leeway could be considered for her sanity. Right at that moment she couldn't care less how she sounded! By right, she would make him pay for ever having the male anatomy.

"Don't worry dear, I know you don't mean that. Just try focusing on the next push okay?" He cooed at her but, obviously, it wasn't working. He'd be lying if he'd said that her threats, no matter how ridiculous they were, didn't inspire in him any small amount of fear. But he reasoned that she was just delirious; with the amount of pain she was in coupled with stress and fatigue, it would do that to anyone. Right?

"Mhm- Oh, Shut up! Shut your mouth, Henry! If you think I was joking, then you – uuuu – are sorely mistaken, sir! When this is all over I am going to – Hrgh!" Yet another contraction hits her, and she tries her best to push with it. They were lasting longer now; it won't be long until the baby arrives. A squeeze of her hand and scrunch to her face "Henry, sweetie, I love you so much." her speech turns a complete one-eighty. "Never have I been more thankful to have you; to have such a beautiful husband and I – Aah! – m gonna kill you so very much!" She probably meant to say "love" and not "kill", at least he _hoped_ that she hadn't meant kill.

He knew that it was improper; she was in pain and delirious and knew not what was coming out of her mouth, but he just had to chuckle at that one. Never in all his years married to this woman would he have ever imagined her saying anything like that. He was so used to seeing her act all queenly that often he'd forget that his wife could be every bit as woman as she was queen.

"And what in the hell are you laughing about!? You wanna laugh do you? Well then, why don't **you **deliver the baby and **I'll** be the one sitting around; you won't be laughing then would you? – Aah – oh!"

"The baby, it's crowning! Quickly, what do I do?" Pabbie said excitedly as he steepled his hands repeatedly like mute clapping. Alarmed the king turns towards him so fast he almost gave him whiplash. He wasn't kidding when he had said that he was no doctor. He had absolutely no idea when it came to these kinds of things; it didn't matter if he were an all powerful shaman, because right now all his years, all his wisdom, all his power, all that counted for naught as he was as clueless as his majesty was.

With that being said, it came as to no surprise that Henry was a little bit reluctant to let this person handle his child. Thankfully Pabbie wouldn't have to as a troll of equal stature hobbled towards them, her ruby red crystals making tinkling sounds with each step. "Oh fer goodness sake!" she said. "Moove, moove ye useless husband o'mine! I'll handle this, now shoo! Away wit' ye!" she reprimanded Pabbie. The old shaman could only shake his head in amusement at his wife's antics as she nudged him off of the stone pedestal he was standing on.

"Yes, dear." He and the king share a look that could only say "Wives – am I right?" He might have been the elder of the trolls, but as long as his wife was concerned, mama wore the pants around these parts.

Pabbie and his wife switch places and he dutifully goes to one side, letting his craggy better half take the lead on this one. "Pay attention, boiys; maybe ye'll larn a thing or two." She told them as she popped her neck and knuckles. She fixes her steely gaze on the queen and their eyes lock in silent conversation only women could understand. They gave each other a determined nod as words were not needed to let them know if they were on the same page; this was it, the final push. "A'right, sweet-hart, I'm goo'in ta nid ye ta poosh as hard as ye ken when the nixt contraction hits. Doo ye understan'?" Her voice, thick with an accent, spoke gently as she told her what to do.

"Yes ma' am." was the strained affirmative. They waited for the next contraction, and when it came the queen pushed with all her might! "Ragh!" she groaned out, her pain giving no quarter.

"Good, good! Jist like tha'! Give me one more darlin'."

Everything was just so focused and intense that when she had called his name it was like hammer on anvil "Henry…" despite it being but a whisper. Her almost nonexistent voice cut through the string-taught haze he found himself in, drawing his attention.

"Right here, I'm right here, Diana." He assured her, squeezing her hand clutched in his.

Her squinted eyes open to look at him, eyebrows drawn in discomfort. "I-I'm scared…" she tearfully confessed. She tried to disguise her fear under a pained smile and humorless chuckle, pretending that she herself could not believe that she was afraid. She _was_ afraid though; she was terrified and the terror reflected in her eyes. It was plain to see that she was fooling no one and so gave up the charade entirely. 'Where is she now?' she wondered. 'Where is the brave queen I remember so well?' She's gone and what is left is this scared young woman. "I'm… so scared, Henry." She said again but this time in a voice so broken, not bothering to hide her true feelings anymore; she could only hide behind her confident façade for so long. Her fake smile all but fades from her face.

He could feel her hand trembling in his grip. It wasn't until just now did he realize how frightened she truly was. Despite being the king, for years Henry had thought that his wife was the stronger of them, but now looking into those eyes he could see that she was just as scared as he was. He knew exactly how that felt; the gripping fear was as much as true to him as it was to her. And because he knew how she felt, he knew exactly what to say but just wasn't too sure how to say it.

The king gives her a watery but all together encouraging smile "You? Scared? I have a hard time believing that. You're the bravest person I know." Henry could only hope that he didn't sound as confident as he felt.

He never really was much for words, especially when it came to admitting these kinds of things. She knew though that this was her husband's way of letting her know that he was scared too and she was content with just that. From under him where she lay, she tries her best to return his sad smile with one of her more vibrant ones but was only able to achieve a poor shadow of an imitation. She gives up and closes her eyes in pain instead.

As valiantly as he tried to keep the strained smile on his face, it started to waver at the corners of his lips with every gentle stroke he made on her sweat-soaked brow. 'You can do this, Diana. I **know** you can do this.' If only he knew how to put into words the things he wanted to say. But what to say? There were so many words. 'Say something to her, man!' he mentally screamed at himself. 'Since when was I so scared to speak my thoughts? I am the king! And my queen deserves everything that I could give.' conviction fills him. "Diana." He tries to coax her attention by caressing her cheek with the back of his hand, begging her to look at him once more. The brave woman does so albeit with difficulty, and as soon as he was sure her focus was on him, Henry fixes her with a hard stare. "Diana, do you remember when you said that you won't give up as long as I didn't? The Diana I know valued her word, so I hope you have no intention of breaking that promise because I am **never** giving up. Love, you can do this; I **know** you can do this; you're the strongest person I have ever known! And if there was **ever** anyone able to finish this thing, then it would be the queen of Arendelle. It. Would. Be. **You**." And to add a bit of flare to his awe inspiring little speech he throws in his own grin that said "You worry too much too."

Pride welled in her like a great dam filled to the brim, shaken and overflowing. 'Now that's what I call a pep talk.' His words were like honey to an open wound and worked to shepherd her frayed nerves. To know that he believed in her to such a degree; who was she to disappoint? "Oh, hush you beautiful man; you're making me lose my focus!"Her gentle beaming sat in contrast to her chastising. It amazed her how that even now in a time of duress he could still make her blush.

"Yes, dear." He smiled again but this time it was real.

* * *

Jack stood dazedly after his brief encounter with the ominous voice, still not quite himself. He felt so tired after the aura merge, and not only that, but also he felt disoriented and confused, but most of all he felt drained; bled dry to the bone. As punny as it sounded, he felt like he only half existed.

In the face of everything he has done, however, there were still some issues to be addressed; the pregnant woman that still needed to give birth, for example. 'Ugh, whatever. Not a doctor; not my problem.' He thought dryly. It was not that he wasn't concerned or that he was too cold to care; it was the exact opposite actually. He may be a hundred year old spirit but he knew next to nothing about babies, and he thought it would probably be best to leave this to Pabbie; with all the years he had under his belt, Jack was pretty sure that the old troll could handle himself.

"What makes you think I would know what to do?' Well that puts an end to that assumption. "I'm a shaman, boy, not a doctor." That's exactly what he said.

'Oh, boy…' Jack thought, disappointedly shaking his head. 'Maybe Pabbie isn't as old or as wise as we gave him credit for?' He could see that he and King Henry were thinking the same thoughts with the way the poor human was descalping himself, looking about ready to hit the smaller person. He didn't blame him; if her were in his shoes he'd want to throttle Pabbie too.

From there, everything just went downhill. There was so much yelling and screaming, particularly from the previously helpless-turned-furious queen of Arendelle. All that time he just stood to the side, content to be invisible for once. He didn't know why but he just wanted to sleep, which was queer because it'd been years since the last time he'd slept a wink; like air, sleeping was optional to spirits.

Everything floated in a haze, and the urge to just drop down dead pulled at him something fierce. It almost felt like all that time he'd spent awake during his years of service were coming back with a vengeance; dragging him down into the bittersweet embrace of nothingness.

Jack tried his darndest to resist; to keep his eyes from closing, but his eyelids felt laden with lead, making his efforts all the more difficult. He stumbles in his efforts to stay awake but was caught mid-fall by Pabbie; the troll using his stockier build to hold the spirit up. "Pabbie? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be helping the queen with the baby thing or whatever?" he asked rather drowsily.

"Me? Oho-no; I'm not very good at playing midwife even with all the sons and daughters; children **and** grandchildren that I have. No, I'm letting the missus handle this one." He said in his raspy and amused voice.

"Missus?" that was a surprise. "You're married?" Do rock trolls even get married?

Pabbie chuckled good-naturedly. "Son, you don't get to live as long as I have without getting married." he joked but his words rang with wisdom. Getting to the matter that concerned the troll more, his face morphs to one of worry; Pabbie wasn't too old and eyes too dim to see that the spirit was not himself. "Jack, what is the matter; you look... paler?"

What wasn't the matter? – would have been the more appropriate question. First of all: he felt tired. Second: he was confused. Third: well there really wasn't a third because he was just too tired and confused to even bother of thinking of another reason to complain about, but you could trust him that, if he wasn't, then you'd be sure he'll give you a third. "- besides all that, I'm good."

Sparing a few seconds just studying the winter spirit, Pabbie scrutinizes his weakened condition. 'Strange, it would seem that the merging took out from Jack more than it did me. The question is – why?' He was not sure. "Your powers were almost depleted with what we did just now; it's only normal to feel out of sorts." He explained somewhat truthfully be it only half truths but only because he didn't know why the merging affected the winter spirit the way it did.

Jack wasn't easily fooled, however; even in his half conscious state, Jack could feel that there was something Pabbie was leaving out; something he wasn't telling him. "Well then why aren't you tired?" he asked, clearly unsatisfied with the shaman's explanation.

"I… do not know -" He conceded "- not yet at least. It's confusing; this wasn't supposed to happen. If anything, the queen should have been the one feeling fatigued, not you. But as you can see… -" Pabbie gives a pause so that the queen's furious screaming could give emphasis to his words.

"Argh! Henry, you are so dead when this is over!" The winter spirit and rock troll grimace in sympathy for the man in where all of the yelling was directed to, and they could see that the queen was far from being tired as Jack was.

"- as you can see, it is not the case." Pabbie finished.

What could it all mean? Jack tried his hardest to make sense of everything of what Pabbie just said and some of the questions he had for himself. His brain, however, refused to comply with his requests for cognitive thought; instead it said 'Jack, even I'm too tired to dole out sarcastic quips at the mess you're in right now, and you know how I _love_ doling out sarcastic quips. That being said, what could possibly even make you think that I'd be able to figure things out? Nope, you're on your own here, buddy.'

He didn't even have enough energy left to get angry at Imaginary Jack. Begrudgingly, he too was of the same mind with his (um)… mind; he just wanted to sleep, and that was all. Now if only he could just close his eyes and lay down on this comfortable looking tree stump over here-.

"Aaah!" how was he supposed to dose off with all the yelling!?

"Okay, okay! Forget it! I'm up!" No rest for the wicked.

* * *

Being wife to the Grand Shaman of the Trolls, it was kind of a job requirement to have sound resolve and concrete disposition. And with all of her husband's mumbo jumbo that she had to deal with every single day, she quickly learned to just roll with it; there were not a lot of things that could make her cringe. Spite of this, however, there were **some** exceptions. "Oh, dear… Oh nae."

This was the moment their actions, their journey all pointed to. "Aaah!" And with all her remaining strength, Diana pushed. Her body had nothing left to give, but what strength she had left had been enough as she was finally able to give birth to her child. The joyous cacophony of their baby's cries, however… could not be heard.

"Pabbie." Pabbie's wife called to him, her voice solemn while cradling something in her hands.

Said shaman approached, knowing full well what that tone meant; the baby, it – no – **she **didn't make it. "I was expecting this." He too was grieved but accepting of what had happened. It was a flimsy thing for the baby to survive all that magical power coursing through the queen. But yet still they denied the knowledge; they dared to hope that it would survive, but Fate had already given them enough of its favor; this one, it would claim for its own. For one to survive an ordeal such as this at such a young age, their spirit must be phenomenally strong, but what could they have expected of an infant who had yet to be born?

"It's dead isn't it?" With her eyes still closed and face tucked in the crook of her husband's chest, she didn't even bother to look for fear that the sight might be too much for her ragged heart. But a mother's sorrow will not be denied and stray tears flow over her flushed cheeks.

The princess was born a blue baby… and there was nothing they could do.

The queen holds her king close, needing comfort as well as giving some to the stunned man that kept her in his arms. Henry's breath stilled and his blood ran cold at the news; though the moment he said "Do what you must" he had known that he had practically signed his child's death warrant, he was now wrought with guilt. This was his choice; he did this. But how was he supposed to act? No man should have ever been made to choose between the life of his wife and his child. But he **had** chosen, and the guilt swallowed him whole.

Pabbie moves towards the grief struck couple and lay a comforting hand on the shoulder of a father in mourning. "Your majesty… Henry, I don't know what to say. I… I am so sorry." Pabbie knew all too well how it felt. He was the greatest of all earth spirits, and as such he loved all life that grew on mother earth's beautiful face. But more than that, he was also a father, a grandfather, and a husband; if Pabbie knew one thing, it was that – losing a child, your first especially, is a pain that knew no words.

"I want to go home now, Henry." She was sad and she was tired and she just wanted to forget. "I just… just want to go home."

* * *

'What!? They're giving up?' They moved heaven and earth; faced hell's fire just to get here! And now they're just going to give up!? 'Oho-no!' That was just not going to fly for the tenacious Jack. 'That's not for me!' his eyes fill with conviction and a little bit of anger; he didn't just go out of his way so that these people could settle for a stupid ending!

With your actions, the end has been left undecided, unwritten…

The words of his faceless friend rang true now more than ever. If he wanted a different ending then he would just have to write one himself. "…Hope now is in your hands." He said, finishing the little verse in a whisper.

As if in a trance, the winter spirit steps forward towards Pabbie's wife who held the motionless princess. The king, queen and Pabbie were unaware of what he was doing and the only one who noticed his movement was the humble midwife. "Master Jack? -" she tried to ask what he was doing but didn't finish.

Jack kneels in front of her, still being a good head taller than the troll. Looking down he said "I just wanna try something. Maybe… maybe we could still save her." He whispered to the befuddled earth troll as if he were telling a secret, not wishing to disturb the silence that has engulfed the entire quarry.

She spared a quick glance at the trio behind the white haired boy, making certain that they were not looking. Assured that they were oblivious enough to what was about to happen, she quickly looks back at Jack and gives him a near imperceptible nod. "If there's sum'thin ye could dae, then dae it quickly." She said while placing the infant on the ground in front of Jack's kneeling form.

That was all the permission he needed. He carefully puts his hands on top of the princess' head, and again he tried channeling his energies... unaware that his actions at this very instant in time will forever change the fate of everything they had ever known. Today, fate was challenged; the life of this girl was not to be for it but her life would be her own.

* * *

A glow slowly started to rise and Pabbie wonders where it was coming from. Looking behind him, his eyes grow wide at what he was seeing. "Jack, stop! What are you doing!?" His words go unheeded as the glow grew even more intense like the first time they aura merged with the queen, but this time it was just Jack, and Pabbie feared what that could mean for the foolish winter spirit. If Jack already felt drained with the **both** of them trying to save her majesty, what more with him all by himself? "Jack, no!"

Pabbie ambles as quickly as he could to reach Jack but was stopped by stubborn hands. "Give the lad a chance, Pabbie. What dae he have ta lose?" his wife tried desperately to reason with him.

"His life! He could lose his life, Elsa!" Came his heated response and tried to shrug of her firm hold. But she did not relent.

She dragged his face towards hers and stared intently into his eyes "Then it is **his** life tae lose! He chose tae dae this because he wants tae, Love. And it is nae ahr place tae tell him otherwise."

He stops in his struggles as her words finally reach him. Begrudgingly he had to accept that this was out of his hands. Seeing this, Elsa lets him go and all eyes: Pabbie's, his wife's, the king and queen's and all the earth trolls present, turn to Jack, all of them thinking the same thing – Could he really save the dead princess?

* * *

"I can do this. I can do this!" he chanted repeatedly as he continued to drain what remained of his powers into the unmoving infant and yet still no sign of life. What if he couldn't do it after all? What if he uses up all his power and it still won't be enough? What then?

'You can't think like that, Jack. You have to -'

"- If you say 'hope', I swear I'm gonna -"

'- you **have** to hope, Jack, that you **can** save her. Do you wanna know why? It is because you **can** save her.' Imaginary Jack tried to encourage, and for the life of him, it actually did.

Gritting his teeth to the point that they started to ache, Jack reached deep within himself scrounging for the last bits of energy he had left. His body felt like it was on fire and the shadows at the corners of his eyes threatened to drag him into unconsciousness. The feeling was like holding his breath for the longest of times and his lungs yearned for air but when he takes a breath there was none to be found.

He was slipping away but still he refused to accept defeat; he was going to end this one way or the other.

Just when he was starting to think that what he was doing was all for naught, something started to happen. He couldn't see it with his eyes closed but the hair on top of the princess' head started to turn from her father's strawberry to a waxier, blonder shade; her healthy peach colored skin grew paler, and just as the shadows in his eyes grew ever more prominent, he opens his heavy eyelids to look at the the cool blue that was now open for him to see, her eyes.

With nothing left to give, Jack stops and hopes that what he did was enough because now he **definitely** needed a nap. He welcomed his slumber with open arms; rest assured that at least he did his best. What comes after was no longer his concern.

'I told you can do it.'

"Yep, totally nailed it. Am I... awesome... or what?" Collapsing onto the unforgiving ground next to the squalling baby, the awesome Jack Frost was finally able to sleep.

* * *

**This chapter actually gave me Goosebumps while writing it and I hope it did the same for you guys. Things got pretty heated up in there didn't it? **

**Okay, so I lied (sort of); this won't be the last chapter to my outrageously lengthy intro. I mean, I tried to stick with my 4000 word rule but this thing ended up twice as long (This thing was 6300 words long for Pete's sake)! So I decided to chop it up into two parts; this one being the first. So it's kinda' like I didn't really lie cuz' I did say that this would be the last chapter, but I just didn't say how many parts there were to this chapter exactly (Woot! Points for outrageous reasoning; go FellStroke!). I just hope I didn't leave you guys with too much a cliffhanger though. ^^ **

**As always – Review! Flames! Add some funny dipped in hunny. (This thing's gonna catch on let me tell ya!)**


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